No End in Sight
by Deana
Summary: Aramis wakes up one day with a very annoying problem, of which there seems to be no end in sight. (My entry in the September Fete des Mousquetaires contest: 'Annoyance!)


**No End in Sight  
** A musketeers story by Deana

My September entry in the Fete contest: 'Annoyance'!  
Don't forget to vote! Send a PM to KarriNeves with your choices for 1st place, 2nd, and 3rd between Oct 1st-15th!

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*Hic!*

*Hic!*

*Hic!*

"RAWRRRRR!"

*Hic!*

"Did you actually think that would work, Porthos?"

*sigh* "There's a first time for everythin'."

"Not when it comes to making Aramis flinch, there isn't!"

*Hic!*

Porthos sighed again and looked over at their afflicted friend as they stood in line for morning muster. Aramis had been hiccuping since the moment he'd woken that morning, and nothing they tried would make it stop.

D'Artagnan was smiling, trying not to laugh. "I don't think I've ever seen you with the hiccups before, Aramis."

Aramis sighed and opened his mouth to answer, but hiccuped again instead.

"Treville is coming," Athos suddenly told them.

*Hic!*

Porthos smiled. "This oughta be good."

"Good morning," Treville said, as he stopped in front of the troupe.

*Hic!*

"Good morning, Captain!" everyone exclaimed.

Treville looked up at the odd sound, but wasn't sure what exactly it had been. "As you all know, it's laundry day. I hope you all have your sacks ready to be picked up?"

*Hic!*

"Yes sir!" Porthos quickly exclaimed.

Treville glanced at him before noticing that d'Artagnan had an odd expression on his face, as if he was trying not to react to something. Athos seemed as impassive as ever and Porthos was trying to look innocent for some reason. Aramis' face looked flushed and he appeared to be holding his breath.

"Is something wrong?" Treville asked, with a frown.

All four of them shook their heads.

Treville watched them for another minute, wondering when his marksman would decide to breathe again. "Aramis?"

*Hic!* Aramis quickly cleared his throat to cover up the sound.

D'Artagnan sputtered but forced himself to keep a straight face.

Treville stared. "Are you well?"

Aramis was about to answer but closed his mouth instead and nodded, holding his breath again.

Treville decided to continue with muster before his musketeer suffocated himself, and after he dismissed them, he heard the strange sound again but it was mostly covered up by noise from the company of men.

Athos took Aramis' arm and tried to herd him away, but Treville got there too fast and grabbed Aramis' other arm to stop them.

"What is it?" he asked.

Aramis tried to stifle another hiccup by covering his mouth, but his whole body jerked.

"Are you ill?" Treville asked him, wondering if Aramis was about to lose the contents of his stomach.

Aramis shook his head.

"Then say something!" Treville demanded, unnerved at the unnatural silence from the usually-talkative man.

*Hic!*

"Aramis has the hiccups, sir," said d'Artagnan, unnecessarily. "Nothing we've tried will stop it."

Treville just stared. Would any day ever be normal when it came to these four? "Is he drunk?" he asked, with shock.

"No," said Athos.

"How much did you four drink at the tavern last night?" Treville asked.

"We didn't drink much at all," said Porthos. "And Aramis only had _one_."

"You expect me to believe that?" Treville answered. "He can't even open his mouth!"

*Hic!*

"Yes he can," said Porthos. "But that's all that comes out."

Treville just stared. "And alcohol didn't cause this?"

"No," said Athos. "Aramis only had one drink because he was not feeling himself."

Treville looked at Aramis. "Then you _are_ ill."

"He wasn't hungry," Porthos told him. "Maybe he ate somethin' that didn't agree with him and it's causin' _this_ now."

*Hic!*

Treville shook his head at the insanity of it all. "Are you capable of carrying out your duties?" he asked.

Aramis looked at him with alarm. "Of course!" *HIC!*

D'Artagnan couldn't hold back his laughter anymore.

"See?" said Porthos. "He _can_ talk!"

Treville looked up at the sky as if to ask God, 'why me?' He waved his arm at them in dismissal, and watched as they walked off. He shook his head with a chuckle at the sound of two more hiccups before they even got out of earshot.

The four musketeers left the garrison and headed to patrol the marketplace.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" d'Artagnan asked Aramis.

"Not for *hic!* this long," Aramis answered.

Porthos chuckled. "Sorry, but it's hilarious!"

"It's an annoyance!" Aramis countered. *Hic!*

"Look how high-pitched it is, like a cute little baby!" Porthos went on, laughing again.

Aramis swatted him, glaring at both him and d'Artagnan as they laughed. "I'm glad you're *hic!* enjoying my *hic!* affliction."

"You gotta admit that it's funny," Porthos answered. "Look, even Athos is smilin'!"

Aramis turned his head and found that it was true: Athos' face held a ghost of a smile. "Oh, Athos *hic!* even _you_?"

Athos inclined his head as if in apology. "I admit to seeing some humor in it."

*Hic!*

"More like _hearin'_ the humor in it!" said Porthos.

Aramis sighed, but hiccuped in the middle of it.

Athos studied him. "You feel all right otherwise?"

Aramis nodded. "Nothing wrong *hic!* but this."

They continued to walk, and a couple of minutes later, Porthos suddenly roared like a bear, forcefully grabbed Aramis, and shook him.

D'Artagnan jumped and Athos stepped back.

Aramis just looked at Porthos. *Hic!*

Porthos sighed and let go of him. "It was worth a try."

"It didn't work during muster, why would it work _now_?" d'Artagnan commented. "Aramis never flinches. Was he _always_ like that?"

The others thought of Aramis' mental state after Savoy, and couldn't say 'yes'.

Porthos changed the subject. "Scarin' people is the best way to cure hiccups. Anyone know any other ways?"

"Holding your breath is supposed to work," said d'Artagnan.

"Tried *hic!* that," said Aramis.

"Drinkin' a glass of water really fast," said Porthos.

"Tried." *Hic!*

"Wine," Athos said.

Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"That's your *hic!* cure for *hic!* _everything_ ," said Aramis.

"When I was little, my father had me chew on—oh, nevermind," said d'Artagnan, with a wince.

"What?" Porthos asked.

D'Artagnan shot Aramis an apologetic look. "Lemongrass."*

Aramis barked a laugh that was interrupted with a loud *HIC!*

All three of the others tried to think of every remedy they'd heard of to cure hiccups, and it turned out that Aramis had already tried most of them.

"Does it hurt?" d'Artagnan asked.

Aramis sighed but it turned into a hiccup. "It's not *hic!* comfortable."

"Sore muscles? From it not stoppin'?" Porthos asked.

Aramis nodded.

Everyone thought hard on something else they could try, and as they passed behind a knife vendor, Aramis hiccupped so loud that the man was startled and turned around…holding a dagger.

Aramis hadn't time to get out of the way, since he couldn't have anticipated the man's reaction, and the blade sliced across the top of his left hand. He gasped from the sudden pain and pulled his arm up.

"Whoa!" Porthos exclaimed, knocking the dagger away.

The vendor was stunned. "I'm so sorry! A noise startled me! It was an accident!"

Aramis clutched his hand to his chest, shaking his head. "I'm fine. *Hic!* It was my fault." *Hic!*

The vendor frowned as he realized what the sound had been, and watched as the four musketeers hurried away.

"Let us see it!" Porthos exclaimed, tugging at his friend's arm.

Aramis headed out of the marketplace before pulling his hand away from his chest and letting go of it. Blood was everywhere...he'd even left a trail of it on the ground.

"You need stitches," Athos commented.

*Hic!*

"Even _that_ wasn't enough to shock the hiccups away!" said d'Artagnan.

Porthos took Aramis' arm. "Let's get you back to the garrison."

"No!" *Hic!*

Athos frowned. "No?"

"Treville will *hic!* make me stay *hic!* there."

"Maybe he _should_ ," said Porthos.

"No." *Hic!*

"A decision needs to be made _fast_ ," d'Artagnan commented, watching Aramis' blood form a puddle on the ground.

Athos looked at him. "Go back into the market and buy some ale and clean cloth."

D'Artagnan nodded and ran off.

Athos took Aramis' other arm and steered him into a nearby alley, making him sit on a crate and reaching for the pocket that he knew Aramis always kept a needle and thread in for emergencies.

Aramis held his handkerchief over the wound with a wince and a hiccup.

Less than two minutes later, d'Artagnan had returned.

Aramis held out his hand and couldn't stop a small cry of pain when the ale was poured over it. Naturally, it was interrupted by a hiccup.

Athos had d'Artagnan hold Aramis' hand out and he reached with the needle to place the first stitch.

*Hic!*

Athos stopped when Aramis' hand jerked, and he looked at d'Artagnan, who held it more firmly.

*Hic!*

Aramis' hand jerked again, and Athos said, "Lay it on his leg."

D'Artagnan lowered Aramis' arm so his palm was resting on his knee.

Athos reached over again.

*Hic!*

"Hold him down!" Athos told Porthos.

Porthos moved behind the crate that Aramis was sitting on and pressed his hands on his friend's shoulders.

Athos sat back and waited.

*Hic!*

Aramis didn't move as much that time, so Athos got to work.

The skin on the back of the hand was very sensitive, as they all knew, and d'Artagnan glanced at Aramis sympathetically, watching him get paler with each stitch.

*Hic!* "Stop!"

Athos did, looking up at Aramis with surprise.

Their marksman was breathing heavily. "Let me *hic!* catch my *hic!* breath!"

It was only then that they realized it wasn't easy to breathe with constant hiccups, and with the awful pain of the stitching, Aramis was miserable.

Only half of the wound was stitched. The cut ran the whole length of the back of Aramis' hand, and it was still bleeding at an alarming rate.

Athos give him another moment before he continued, aware that he was losing a lot of blood. He tried to go faster, despite the sounds of pain that Aramis accidentally let slip free.

Once finished, it took twenty stitches to close. Athos knew that extra stitches were better than not enough in a case like that, as it would be easy to break open a wound on the hand.

Aramis was very pale, breathing heavily between hiccups as Athos wrapped a bandage around his hand.

"You gonna pass out?" Porthos nervously asked.

*Hic!*

"We should've brought him to the garrison anyway," said d'Artagnan. "He can't fight like this should he need to."

"You're right," said Athos, taking their wounded friend's arm. "Come, Aramis."

Porthos helped Aramis stand from the crate, but the blood loss and awkward breathing from his relentless hiccups made his brain reel and his knees buckled.

Porthos caught him and they maneuvered him to sit on the crate. "Aramis?"

Their friend's eyes were closed.

Athos reached over and tapped his face, and the reaction he got was a hiccup.

"Is he doing that while unconscious, or is he still awake?!" d'Artagnan asked.

"I don't know," said Athos.

Aramis moved his head slightly and hiccuped again. He opened his eyes and blinked blearily.

"Too bad you weren't out longer," said d'Artagnan. "We were trying to figure out if you were hiccuping while unconscious."

Aramis just stared at him.

D'Artagnan gave him a shrug as if his statement had been perfectly normal.

Aramis sighed and hiccuped again, making no move to rise. "This is *hic!* ridiculous," he said.

"We all agree with ya," Porthos told him. "Come on, maybe lyin' down will make 'em go away." He helped Aramis up more carefully and kept hold of him as they slowly walked back to the garrison.

Treville saw them come in and immediately noticed the bandage on Aramis' hand. "What happened?!"

"A man had a knife," Porthos told him, intentionally making it sound like an altercation. "Caught Aramis' hand with it. We already stitched it up." He didn't stop walking, but brought Aramis over to the table and sat him at it.

*Hic!*

Treville sat beside him and grabbed Aramis' wrist to pull his hand up to the table. "Did it go all the way through?!" he asked with alarm, knowing that Aramis could lose function in his hand if so.

"No," said Athos.

Treville unwrapped the bandage and stared in shock at the amount of stitches. Before he could say anything, Aramis hiccuped again. "That still hasn't stopped?"

"Not even when he was unconscious," d'Artagnan told him.

Aramis shot him a 'why did you say that?!' expression. *Hic!*

"Unconscious?" Treville asked, looking at Aramis.

*Hic!*

"It didn't even last a minute," said Porthos. "He stood too fast after we fixed 'im up."

"Hmm," said Treville, watching Aramis' pale face and shaking his head when he hiccuped again. "I suppose you tried everything you could think of to stop his hiccups."

"Everything, with no end in sight," Athos confirmed. "If you know of a remedy that we don't, I'm sure he would willingly try."

Aramis nodded. *Hic!*

"When I was a child, I used to hang upside down from a tree branch," Treville told him. "But I don't think that would be wise in his condition; he'd probably faint again."

"Pass *hic!* out," Aramis managed to say.

Treville rolled his eyes. "A teaspoon of honey was another trick that sometimes works."

"I'll get it," d'Artagnan offered, before dashing off to the kitchen.

Everyone else stared at Aramis, making him feel like some new species of insect.

*Hic!*

*Hic!*

*Hic!*

*Hic!*

*Hic!*

D'Artagnan suddenly ran back over with a cup and placed it down on the table before taking out a spoon and holding it before Aramis' face.

Aramis took it and put it into his mouth, but before he could swallow, he hiccuped again and some of it went down the wrong way.

Everyone grew alarmed when Aramis choked. Porthos pounded him on the back which only made it worse since Aramis couldn't breathe, choke, and hiccup at the same time.

Aramis stood and tried to back away from Porthos' hand, but the blood loss he'd suffered made him dizzy and another hiccup stole away whatever oxygen he was managing to get, so he passed out again.

"Whoa!" Porthos exclaimed, grabbing Aramis before he hit the ground. He quickly sat him back down, and just as before, it was only seconds before Aramis hiccuped again.

"Can't he die if he looses consciousness while choking?!" d'Artagnan exclaimed.

Porthos pulled Aramis to drape him over his arm so he could pound him on the back again, but Aramis started choking on his own, pushing against Porthos to sit himself up.

*Hic!*

"Are you all right?!" Treville exclaimed, shocked at what had just happened.

"No!" Aramis exclaimed in utter frustration. *HIC!*

It was very, _very_ unusual for Aramis to say 'no', which made the others realize the depth of his exasperation.

"I can fetch a doctor," d'Artagnan offered.

Treville nodded. "Do that."

D'Artagnan nodded and headed towards the stable.

"Do you want to lie down?" Porthos asked.

Aramis sighed, hiccuping in the middle of it. "No. I'm not *hic!* injured."

"What do you call that, pray tell?" asked Athos, pointing to Aramis' hand.

Aramis shook his head. "I mean *hic!* _this_. It's so *hic!* ridiculous to be *hic!* put to bed *hic!* because of it."

Treville nodded. "I agree, but we can't change the fact that this is not a normal situation. For all we know, maybe lying flat will stop the spasms. It's something you haven't tried, I assume."

"And you _did_ loose a good amount of blood and faint," Porthos told him.

Aramis hiccuped with a glare.

"I mean, 'pass out'," Porthos corrected.

"It's worth a try," said Treville. "Go lie down and see if it helps."

Aramis sighed with a hiccup. "Fine." *Hic!*

The four musketeers headed for Aramis' room and helped him remove his weapons, jacket, and boots, since he couldn't move his left hand. He laid down on his bed and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Everyone stared at him, and for five whole seconds, everything was quiet.

Aramis' eyes popped open in shock. "The captain was—*HIC!*"

"Wrong," Porthos finished for him.

The hiccuping renewed itself, and Aramis lay there helplessly, annoyed out of his mind and wishing that someone would put him out of his misery.

D'Artagnan returned with the doctor, who admitted to being at a loss.

"I have never seen a man with hiccups that lasted this long non-stop," he said as he rebandaged Aramis' hand. "I've seen—and experienced myself—people get them on and off for a day or two, but not for so many hours straight."

"I've drivin' 'im crazy," said Porthos.

"Does it hurt?" the doctor asked.

"Muscles," Aramis admitted. His entire midsection was sore.

"The best remedy is holding your breath or being startled."

"We tried," said Porthos. "Nothing makes Aramis flinch."

The doctor told them every remedy that he knew of, and it turned out that the musketeers had already tried each one. He had no other advice except to rest, as relaxing the body could also relax the spasms.

Aramis wasn't happy, but he obeyed.

The afternoon passed slowly with the hiccups not abating.

"Knock me out," he finally said to Porthos.

Everyone looked at him, knowing that he was serious.

"Can't do that," said Porthos.

Aramis sighed with another hiccup. "Then I'll *hic!* have to *hic!* do it *hic!* myself." With that, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and jumped to his feet.

Everyone jumped up themselves. "Are you insane?!" Porthos exclaimed, grabbing him.

Dizziness overcame Aramis' brain and his knees buckled.

"He's _desperate_ ," said d'Artagnan, sounding surprised, as he hadn't been with the musketeers long enough yet to see Aramis reach his limits.

Aramis felt himself placed back on the bed, but he never fully lost consciousness. *HIC!*

Three sighs filled the room.

Aramis opened his eyes, dejected. "I *hic!* give up."

"It _has_ to stop," Athos told him. "It can't last forever."

"Five minutes from now, you could be back to normal," said d'Artagnan.

"Or _his_ version of normal, at least," Porthos said with a grin, hoping to make Aramis laugh.

Aramis smiled slightly before hiccuping again.

Once suppertime came, Aramis wanted to get up but he didn't want to eat in the kitchen with everyone else, as he knew that it would be a very awkward meal. The four of them took their food outside and Porthos cut Aramis' meat for him since his left hand was useless.

Aramis hiccuped the entire time that he ate. He was slower in finishing because he had to be careful not to choke himself.

"I hope that stops before bedtime," d'Artagnan remarked.

Aramis looked at him, distressed at the thought of being awake all night.

Suddenly, Porthos grabbed Aramis and started tickling him.

Aramis was taken by surprised and squirmed, but Porthos' hold was firm and Aramis started laughing, hiccuping in between. "It's not *hic!* working!" *Hic!*

Porthos let go. "It was worth a try."

"I'll fetch some more wine," said Athos, heading back towards the kitchen.

D'Artagnan stood and picked up their dishes before following.

Porthos watched Aramis, feeling sorry for him each time he saw his friend's body jerk from another hiccup. "Did you try any of your fancy herbs?"

Aramis nodded. *Hic!*

"Is there anything in your saddlebag that wasn't in your room?" Porthos asked.

Aramis tried to think. *Hic!*

"Nevermind, I'll go get your pouch," Porthos told him. With that, he ran off toward the stable.

Aramis sat there alone, hiccuping over and over, wincing from the soreness that it was causing in his midsection. He couldn't understand why it wouldn't stop, and he prayed to God that it would so he could sleep.

"Aramis!" Porthos suddenly shouted. "Aramis! Help!"

Aramis gasped and jumped to his feet. He hiccuped and nearly fell over the bench, his heart beating wildly in his chest as Porthos continued to yell for him. He ran towards the stable but didn't see his friend inside.

"Aramis! Help!"

"Where are you?!" Aramis exclaimed. He ran outside the stable and crashed into something, reeling from sudden dizziness. "Porthos!" he shouted.

The object apparently had hands, for he was quickly grabbed. "I'm here, I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Aramis blinked bleary eyes at him, breathing heavily. "What?!"

Porthos squeezed his arms. "I'm sorry…I did it to scare the hiccups away. I'm sorry."

Aramis said nothing, still breathing heavily.

"I think it worked!" came another voice.

Aramis looked to see d'Artagnan and Athos standing beside them. He took a deep breath and realized that d'Artagnan was right; the hiccups were gone.

"There's only one thing that truly scares Aramis," Porthos told him. "One of his friends in danger."

Aramis nodded, sighing as his tried to calm his racing heart. "I thought a horse had fallen on you," he said.

"I'm sorry," said Porthos, pulling him into a hug. "Forgive me?"

Aramis smiled. "Of course; I can _breathe_ again!"

Porthos pulled away and grinned, patting his shoulder.

"Wine?" Athos suddenly said, holding up the bottle in his hand.

"Please," said Aramis. "I _really_ could use some."

With that, they headed back to the table, relieved that Aramis was free of his affliction…and hoping that it would never come back.

THE END

*'Hidden Danger' and 'No Safe Place to Breathe' where Aramis is deathly allergic to lemongrass.


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